So Happy I Could Die
by spheeris1
Summary: COMPLETED :: Sequel to 'You've Got A Vicious Streak For Someone So Young' :: Angst and love :: 'And it doesn’t matter that they’ve met before, that they’ve wounded one another before, that they’ve already seen the end of their beginning.'
1. o n e

Spencer finished her work on the film concerning Africa and then she took another job.  
_And another. And another. And another._  
Pretty soon, it is December and she has not seen her apartment in almost a year. She wishes, for half a second, that she was still a little girl and going home to Ohio – where there might be snow on the pine trees and ice on the roads.

_Christmas should have snow._

But it is the sandy beaches and the endless stream of human chatter that awaits her as she flies in from India, red-clay dirt still stuck under her fingernails and her skin now a burnished gold… easy enough to fit in with every other blonde woman in L.A.

And there is a layer of dust on her furniture and there are messages that need to be listened to and there is too much mail against her door – but Spencer just drops her bags and slides onto her couch, drifting to sleep… and she falls into slumber thinking that, even with the sun and the heat, it's not so bad to make it back to her own little world two days before the biggest holiday of the year.

** ** **

Ashley finished her world tour, capping it off with a somewhat small affair in Paris and then she cut a live album back in New York – girls and boys at her feet as she played an acoustic guitar.  
_And then interviews. And then an awards show. And then time in the studio._  
Pretty soon, it is December and Kyla is anxiously telling her it is time to come back to the west coast, time to do all those sisterly things one must when one of the sisters is getting hitched.

But even with the crowded flight of children screaming and parents sighing, Ashley is glad to be winging her way back to L.A. – the city of her misspent youth and the cradle that rocked her.

_Sometimes gently, but mostly hard._

And she wonders what her father would think if he were still around, to see one of his daughters finally settling down and Ashley likes to think he would be smiling – just like a star.

** ** **

"Red and green still work for me, babe."  
"Are you **kidding** me?"  
"A little bit, sure, but—"  
"No. No, Aiden. We've had three months to do this and we waited too long and I want this to be perfect!"  
"I know! I'm just joking around… Ashley, help me out here?"  
"Ashley's going to help me if she knows what is good for her. Otherwise, that red and green monstrosity can be her maid of honor dress."  
"…Ash?"  
"What? Where the hell is she? God, can **no one** see what I am up against here!"

Ashley loves Kyla and Aiden.  
She loves them together, like seeing the best of both worlds finally come together – _peanut butter and chocolate_ – but they love to snip at each other and get worked up.  
And while it is probably for the fun of making-up, Ashley needs a break from so much… domesticity.

Not that she is sad. Or bitter. Or envious.  
_Well, okay, that last one might be in there somewhere…_  
But at least it isn't from some odd form of jealousy. It is just good ol' fashioned envy – the kind one gets when you spend more and more time on your own, the kind that springs up… sometimes… just to remind you that the connections you've made are just too brief.

Kyla is the one to find her, rudely digging in Ashley's purse and then shooting a dark look to Ashley herself.

"Your face might freeze like that. Imagine **those** wedding pictures."  
"You really gave up smoking? For good?"  
"When did you pick it up?"  
"Oh. Well. I always kind of smoked, usually if I have been drinking too much."  
"The things we learn…"  
"Oh shut up, Ash. Vice is a part of life."  
"So says the bride to be."  
"God, he can be **so** stupid!"  
"Uh huh."  
"And I love him like crazy."  
"Yep."  
"He wants to do surf and turf, but I'd like to have chicken. Or even tofu. What do you think?"

_Maybe I should rethink these feelings of envy and just go with pity for these two._

"I think I am going to quit my music career."

And while she could have thought of a better time to drop that bombshell – like **not** two days before Kyla and Aiden tie the knot, trying to upstage Christmas – Ashley is known for unpredictability.  
It is part of her charm, part of her curse.

_And it sure as hell can silence a room. Or a sister._

** ** **

"Bill. Bill. Overdue. Bill. Mom. Glen. Mom… **again**. Bill. Charity. Charity. Work. Charity. Work. Work. Junk. Bill…"

Spencer likes to say it out loud, likes to hear her own voice slightly echo against the walls of her apartment – tones coated with coffee and heavy sleep.  
She woke up on the couch, day into night, and stumbled to her shower.  
And pulsing hot water brought her back to life.

So, it is two in the morning and the mail is being dealt with.

"…Work. Check, very nice. Work. Bill. Junk. Junk. More junk…"

And the surname doesn't send her into a tailspin anymore, the letters in gold and black calligraphy.  
And even his name does not rile her up, not anymore, and Spencer feels a relief wash over her body at this fact.  
Because she was almost certain, but not completely sure, that she had survived any of it – the break up or the hurt or the good-bye…

_I did wonder, sometimes, if it was all some crazy dream. Something I made up and didn't really live through._

But she had. And she did.  
And when she sees the date on the thin piece of ivory stationary, Spencer's only thought is if there is enough time to find a good dress for Kyla Davies wedding.

She plans to respond in the morning… _later in the morning, that is…_ to the invitation and to go shopping sometime in the afternoon for the right outfit.  
And she wonders… briefly… how all her rolls and rolls of burnt landscapes and war-torn faces and endless roads will stack up to actually seeing Ashley again.

But it is two in the morning and Spencer lets the thought float away just as quickly as it came.

** ** **

They discuss it over breakfast.  
Or, rather, Kyla talks and questions and Aiden rolls his eyes and Ashley drinks her chai.

"I just want to know if you are sure. Have you thought this through, like **really** through? This is your dream, Ash."  
"And I've lived it, Ky. I'm done. I mean, I'll still play some stuff and record… when I **want** to. But I just… I want to stop, you know. Stop running around and just… **be**. At least for a little while."

The happy couple stare at her like she has grown another head and Ashley makes sure to sigh.  
Loudly.

"If it makes you happy, then we're happy… right, babe?" Aiden pipes up.  
"Is this because of, you know—"  
"Kyla, c'mon…"  
"No, Aiden, it needs to be addressed—"

"What? Because of Spencer, is that what you mean?" Ashley says in between sips of her drink and their bickering.

And Aiden freezes up, just a little, like he always does.  
_Like he always probably will. It is his apology and his nature._  
And Kyla stares, trying to pierce the answers out, like she always does.  
_Like she always probably will. It is her affection and her nature._

And, if Ashley were in the mood to travel that particular path, she could say… _yes, in a way, it is because of Spencer and our last talk and the last time I saw her and the burden finally put down upon the ground – it is because I felt such love, because I felt such pain… it is Spencer, sure, but it is everything.  
It is losing my father. It is the fear I always had… of rejection, of trying and failing.  
And it is the fact that I succeeded anyway, on my own merit, and I didn't falter… at least, not often.  
It is everything, Kyla._

But Ashley opts for the simple answer, the one that batted about her head as she watched her sister try on dresses and Aiden hug Kyla tightly and the two of them gleefully showing Ashley their new place – pointing out where they will have the guest bedroom, just for her…

"As scary as the thought is, there will be little Dennison-Davies roaming around soon enough and… I'd like to be here for that."

And Aiden's eyes actually start to shine, tears threatening.  
Kyla's, too, and Ashley wants to look away – because she is still not great with revealing things and showing her hand and being this open.  
_It is still hard sometimes. It is still too much sometimes._

But this is a burden going down as well, a peace made and laid to rest and all three of them know it.  
All three of them know what ghost is finally being set free.

"That's good by me." Kyla whispers, reaching out and taking Ashley's left hand.  
And Aiden nods in agreement, taking Ashley's right hand.

When the phone rings and breaks the moment, Kyla gets up and Aiden releases his hold and Ashley settles back in her chair.

And she wonders what the old her would do now in order to tarnish this, to wreck it and make it agonizing – but that girl is gone and the world is so much better for it.  
Ashley is so much better for it.

"Well, one more guest to mark off the list." Kyla remarks and Aiden looks up from his plate.  
"As in showing up or not?"  
"As in showing up."  
"Cool. Who is it?"  
"It's Spencer."

And the happy couple looks to Ashley, but they just find her smiling softly as she lounges her morning away, legs tucked underneath her and brown eyes aglow with another L.A. dawn.

** ** **

It goes off without any issues – despite Kyla's nerves and Aiden sweaty hands – and people clap and tears are shed and the church carries the scent of a thousand more people who want God to bless a union.  
And Spencer thinks that her next project should be about how the gay community should demand this right, too… _even if they never really want to get married, even if they are atheists…_

And Kyla is beautiful, all blinding white and hints of brown.  
And Aiden is handsome, never one to look bad in much of anything, gaze full of happiness.  
And people laugh, people smile, people take too many pictures at certain times and turn this holy place into a red carpet.

_There might be two people up there, but it is still a Davies wedding after all._

And that brings Spencer to the prettiest girl there – _and it doesn't hurt to think that, doesn't wound to admit it, doesn't kill me to look and admire_ – by Kyla's side and holding a simple bouquet of wildflowers, sleek white dress and untamed curls of hair and a grin adorning those lips.

Ashley Davies looks good.

_And by good, I mean well. And by well, I mean… calm. And that is a new face, a new thing._

Spencer blinks and raises her own camera, a gift from her father after her first directing gig, and she takes the picture.  
And Kyla sends a tiny wave her way (_she looks giddy_) and Aiden nods (_he looks pleased_) and Ashley tilts her head to the right – _only slightly, but just enough to let me in on a secret, whatever that might be_ – and Spencer takes one more, grinning as the flash goes off and she steps back.

She steps back and wanders around the reception, snatching a flute of champagne and getting random shots of guests, of a buffet of… _is that tofu?_... and of flowers everywhere.  
She didn't bring a gift, because there are only so many toasters one can receive.  
So, Spencer takes pictures and she will bind them up and – one day, soon – she'll drop it off with the happy couple and they will hug and they will catch up… skimming over the bad years, focusing on only the nice ones…

_And it will be a new face, a new thing.  
And it will be good._

** ** **

"Go over there, you know you want to."

And Kyla's voice is close and warm and Ashley wraps her sister up in a hug again.

"I've not given you two my present yet."

And Kyla doesn't press anything, for which Ashley is grateful.  
Because everything went as it should – from this beautiful day, with wreaths outside on streetlights and marriage on the inside of this church… from guests who joked that this counted as a double-holiday and celebrity magazines gushing (_but not causing trouble, for once_) and kids begging their parents to hurry – toys left at home and just begging to be played with.

Because it is Christmas and everyone is nicer than usual.  
Because even L.A. has a heart and this is the one day that it shows it, without gumption and without gall.  
Because her family now has a foundation in her sister and her best friend, a place where Ashley can forever land and she can almost feel her father watching… _and approving…_

"What is it then?" Kyla grins and Aiden hugs her from behind and Ashley leans back, walking with purpose to the back and grabbing her guitar and the crowd of people goes silent.

And Ashley feels a pair of blue eyes track her through a lens and she meets it head-on – and the flash goes off and they see one another amongst so many others and Spencer's lips quirk upward… _slowly, surely, so wonderfully_… and Ashley just shakes her head in humor before gracing the pulpit area.

And she sings, giving it her all, her voice bouncing off these walls and against these pews and pushing at those large double doors.  
And Kyla cries and Aiden watches quietly and everyone feels it – and it is love.  
And even Ashley can't stop it now, the winding of tears down her face and make-up going to hell and it doesn't matter…

_Because this is a special day.  
And if I can't cry now, when can I?_

And Ashley feels a pair of blue eyes watch her, a mirror of joy in crystal rivers down Spencer's cheeks – and when she finishes, people applaud and people pat her back and Kyla is so tightly about her and Aiden is kissing the side of her head and… and…

_This is such a damn good day, isn't it, God?_

** ** **

"The DJ is kind of crap."  
"A little **too** Top 40, yes."  
"I keep expecting Britney Spears to pop up behind the guy to get her pay cut from this."  
"Or Jessica Simpson."  
"At least it isn't Lindsey Lohan."  
"I kind of liked her album actually."  
"…Me, too. Don't tell anyone, okay?"  
"My lips are sealed."  
"Do you like the Go-Go's?"

Spencer would call this segment in her personal film the 'surreal' one – because they are talking and, once upon a time, it would have been a cover for something else… _whether for flirting or for anger or both…_  
And there is nothing of the latter two and there is only a hint of the former one.

_It's that new face again. That new and calm and good face._

"Only in the shower. Don't tell anyone."  
"I'll carry your secret to the grave."  
"It's like those childhood pacts, you know. Should we spit on our palms and shake on it?"  
"Well, we have swapped spit before…"

And Spencer blushes and she doesn't question why and she laughs, tipping her glass back and draining it. And Ashley grins and pops some tiny morsel into her mouth and Spencer catches the girl's head moving – without consent – to the music being played.

"I like her."  
"Yea, so do I."  
"Feels like forever since I've heard music in the States."  
"Been going tribal for a while, eh?"  
"There are no chargers in a tent by the Ganges, so no iPod to keep me sane."  
"I couldn't live without mine. Sometimes it is good to hear something other than myself."

And Ashley smiles self-consciously and Spencer's fingers splay against her own thigh – just barely halting the act of reaching out and disrupting this… _whatever it is_… and the lights go down and Kyla and Aiden dance goofily to the thrumming bass and everyone hollers and everyone cat-calls.

"Oh my god…"  
"Watch your mouth in here."  
"It's the reception. God understands. And besides, if he is truly around, he'd blind me to this poor excuse for grinding they are doing."  
"Hey, don't leave me here to suffer this alone."  
"Get this on film, though. I could use it as black-mail one day."  
"Split any monetary gain fifty-fifty?"  
"Deal."  
"We never did shake on things."

And they look at one another, a mixture of mirth and ease in their respective gazes, and they slide hands against one another – the tips of the fingers first, trailing the lines of the palms and then secured at the thumbs… solid and hot and Ashley is absent-mindedly caressing where her index finger touches Spencer's wrist and Spencer captures this in her mind – replays it and relishes it and doesn't fight it.

_It is a new face. And I like it._

"Let's dance."  
"Yea?"  
"Yea."

And so they do, along with many others, along with the happy couple.  
They laugh and they don't get too close – but they don't stray too far either – and Spencer would call this the 'girl meets girl' segment to her personal film.

And it doesn't matter that they've met before, that they've wounded one another before, that they've already seen the end of their beginning.  
None of that matters now.

_All that matters is this moment. And I like it.  
I like it a lot._

** ** **

Six months later, Ashley is trying to decide if off-white would go better with blue or if she should just find a lighter shade of blue as a compliment to her new loft living room – and failing to make a decision, she just calls Spencer up and suggests a burger on the strip.

Spencer, editing a short film for a friend and getting bored with endless negatives about Albert Bierstadt – _no matter how nice the visions of canyons_ – is up for anything that involves leaving her desk behind.  
And when Ashley calls, she jumps on the opportunity.

They do this quite often now.  
They exchanged numbers after the wedding, after Aiden and Kyla took off to the sound of tin cans for a honeymoon somewhere secluded and they talked a bit more as Spencer walked to her car – Ashley about 'taking a break' and Spencer about 'working too much' – and they said good-night.  
They said they would keep in touch.

And so they did.  
And they do.

"Where are you today?" Kyla's voice glides over the phone lines and Ashley stretches her legs out, avoiding the constant steps of foot traffic and idly stirs her sweet tea with a spoon.  
"Waiting on Spencer."  
"Oh I see…"

And Kyla can't hide a damn thing, but Ashley does not jump to the bait – she does not get caught up in the knowing tone in her sister's voice.  
Because anyone with half a brain knows that Ashley loves Spencer.  
But life isn't simple and they've 'been there, done that' and she just likes having the girl back in her life.  
Ashley won't waste time longing for more.  
They had more… _and it didn't work out. C'est la vie._

"And there she is, so bye."  
"But what about toni—"

Ashley knows she'll be with Aiden and Kyla for dinner – it is their ritual now.  
And Kyla will tell Ashley to move back in. And Aiden will cook and stay out of it.  
And Ashley will break out the Scrabble, tell Kyla to spell something more challenging than 'cat' and thus her sister will be easily distracted by the thrill of competition.

"I know that look."  
"Shows that badly, hmm?"  
"It's your… 'Kyla is driving me crazy' look. Am I right?"  
"Bingo, Miss Carlin. You win a prize."  
"Ooh, what?"  
"You can have dinner with them tonight. How's that sound?"  
"Eh… no thanks."  
"Some friend you are."  
"I could, maybe, show up later. For moral support."  
"Better watch it, I might take you up on that."

And Ashley smiles fondly at Spencer, watching the woman sit down and order and push her sunglasses atop her blonde hair – then, all the little details are taken care of and those blue eyes are on her… every bit of Spencer Carlin's attention is on Ashley and she has to remind her mouth to work, to function normally.

Because, even after all this time and even after the evolution of what they once were… Ashley still thinks Spencer Carlin is outstandingly gorgeous – _outside and within_.

"She, uh, wants me to move back in. Again."  
"She likes taking care of you, I think."  
"Yea, she'll make a great mother. I keep telling her to start popping out those kids, so I can catch my breath."  
"Aww, poor you, loved by so many…"  
"Ha ha ha."  
"It suits you."  
"What does?"  
"…Umm, I don't know, being cared for. It… looks good on you."  
"Yea… well…"

And they do this, too.  
They say things – things that one of them should catch and rein in before it gets loose, before it sprints free and hits a tender spot… before it hits the heart and makes an impact.  
They say things and then they freeze up – because it is true and it is important and it makes them remember something long gone.  
And it makes them wonder about what will be.  
And Ashley can't do that to herself. And Spencer can't do that to herself either.

So, if they can't laugh it off or change the subject, they claim sudden responsibilities and rush away.  
It's a form of running and Ashley wants to stop it, but she doesn't know how.  
The tightrope of their relationship is a strange one and there is no net below these days.

"…most things look good on me, right?"

And Spencer chuckles and Ashley grins and they both release the tension – saving it for another day, another meal, another time where they can ignore the elephant stampeding their way.

** ** **

Three months go by and Spencer dislikes the way her gut is twisting, the way it is curling inward and churning and the sensation is leaving her short-tempered with everyone.  
She can't focus on the film this week, all the guys in dresses and the leather and the dykes on bikes and the rainbows. Nor can she find the energy to spare for those bible-thumpers, carrying signs of hatred and of contempt, all under the banner of God.

She can't keep her eyes on anything at all and she knows **exactly** why and it is driving her crazy.  
Crazy like she can't get a good shot of two girls kissing and she flips off her sound guy and staggers to an alley-way and wants to pull her hair out.  
And it makes her feel like a child again, something taken away and she can't get it back – she is in an adult time-out and she wants to scream – she wants to kick and punch and…

_…and I don't want to feel like this…_

But she does feel so much and it has been building with every second they've spent with one another and Spencer didn't think twice when Ashley told her about a date – didn't think twice about meeting the woman (_Lauren with the auburn hair and teasing smile_), didn't think twice when Ashley smiled that shy smile and didn't think twice when watching them walk away hand-in-hand.

Because it is what people do. They move on and they heal and they seek out someone to love them – the whole them, the real them, the new them.  
And Spencer had done the same, though each one was brief – special but brief.  
_Adriana from Brazil, working on a thesis about long term bird migration and with a wonderful way of touching my skin… or Bailey, with her infectious laugh and drinking until dawn and her sleepy lips following me from Scotland to Madrid and back again… _

Spencer didn't think about Ashley then, not even once, just happy to have the past behind her and to live in the here-and-now… happy to meet new women, to get to know them and to cherish whatever they might share with her. It was liberating, to love and be loved without restriction – without hesitation.

And she didn't think about it, not when Ashley talked about the date and rolled her eyes… _trying to act all nonchalant when things go well…_ and she didn't think about it, not when Ashley rearranged a lunch and promised to make it up the next day… _which I honestly didn't believe she would do, but she did…_ Spencer just didn't think about it.

It was Kyla and Aiden's little party that messed things up and Spencer leans against these dirty bricks, tuning out the sounds of 'I Will Survive' from the street to her right.  
They invited her and she came with wine and everyone was full of themselves that night.  
Aiden, with his cock-sure grin and apron and too many beers. Kyla, with her giggling and whispering secrets in Spencer's ear and stealing from everyone's plate.  
And Ashley breezed in, Lauren on her arm, and she winked at Spencer and Spencer grinned back… and it just… sort of…

_Fuck, it just clicked right back into place and I saw Ashley – __**really**__ saw her – hanging on that girl and kissing that girl's mouth and dancing around and being… Ashley Davies.  
The older version, the wiser version with that damned new face… and it was too beautiful for words.  
__**She**__ was too beautiful for words.  
Too beautiful for Lauren and her black slacks and her witty bullshit about La Jolla.  
Too beautiful for all of them… even Spencer herself…_

Kyla, _who catches everything and doesn't always say it_, was the one who found her – _staring out the window with my alcohol-breath fogging up a patch of glass_ – and rubbed her back.  
It was comforting and motherly and kind.  
And Spencer bit her bottom lip to keep from sobbing.  
_Because everything was going so well, wasn't it?_  
They had ended the vicious cycle and could forgive and forget and they made amends and everyone could then move forward… _right_?

"Not for nothing, Spencer, but she would come running. Just say the words and she'd come running."  
"I can't do that, Kyla. I just can't. Too much time has passed… and you can't… reshape things like that."  
"If that helps you sleep at night…"

And the hand kept smoothing out the invisible wrinkles and Spencer bit down harder upon her lip, not drawing blood but causing immense pain.

_Because I couldn't do what Kyla suggested. I still can't. I won't ruin the progress we've made. I won't try and claim what is not mine to have. Even if I want to. __**Especially**__ if I want to._

That's how Ashley found them.  
And Ashley looked at the two of them with suspicion and with concern and Spencer ripped that sudden sadness away like a band-aid – eager to do the right thing, the **only** thing, the mature thing and be happy for her friend and keep moving on… _keep moving ahead at all costs, Carlin…_

"Hey, hey… wait… Spencer, tell me what is going on?"  
"Nothing. Just reminiscing. Right, Kyla?"  
"Yea, Ash, just, uh… memory lane and all that…"

And Kyla left Spencer there, the hand drifted down and the girl walked away and Ashley was studying her – bug under the microscope – and Spencer felt like she couldn't breathe, couldn't take a single lungful of air with those brown eyes so close.  
But then Ashley's hand was on her face, cupping her cheek so warmly and one single tear broke loose and soft fingers brushed it away.

"It's okay…" Ashley whispered and Spencer found that old tale – _the one where we couldn't speak of our attraction boldly, so we used a boy as our go-between_ – brilliantly retold with those repeated words and that repeated action.  
That old story was torn asunder and built up new, bright and full of potential and Ashley was so near and Spencer surged forward – a cannonball of awakened passion.  
And it took a second, just a second, and then Ashley was kissing her back – it was painfully slow and delicious and…

_Better than all the others. Better than every woman and every lover and every girl I thought I could date forever. Better than even the first kiss Ashley and I shared, in her room with her dad's posters all over the walls and her messy bed. Better than all the others… so much better and so much more real and so fucking good…_

That's how Lauren found them.

"Spencer! You okay now? We've got two more reels to get and then it is margarita time!"

And she is crying, wiping it all away on her arm and pushing her head into the wall hard and she can hear cheering all along the street.  
It is Pride and she should be capturing it… she should be living it and not falling in love with that girl who got away, that girl who ran away and came back and is her friend now…

But it is happening anyway.  
And Spencer can't seem to stop it.

"Ready!" She shouts and walks back around the corner, apologizes to the sound guy and gets the two reels down. And then she drinks margaritas and flirts with a drag king and dances until she can barely walk back home again – the tang of a pair of sweet lips on her tongue, the disconcerted feeling of screwing up no matter which way she goes.

And she tries to figure out the way to let Ashley go again, before she turns everyone's world upside-down.

_My own included._

** ** **

TBC


	2. t w o

Lauren isn't the rebound.

She is something that Ashley has never done – a sober and simple kind of girl, the woman who knows her way around relationships and doesn't ask for what isn't on offer – Lauren isn't the one to fall apart or to go into hysterics.

Lauren isn't the substitute.

She is not a stand-in for anyone, not just a body with a face, not just heat against sheets. Lauren isn't the woman who Ashley is only using to get over…

_Spencer, wide-eyed and backing away and never saying a word as she runs from this room and into a crowd of people and out the door… into the night…_

And maybe it is justice.

But then again, justice got served already, right?

It was a conversation in a café, after sex with too much meaning. It was when Ashley stood outside of Spencer's door and begged and got nothing in return.

It was in the very moment that Ashley didn't know how to answer such an easy question – outside of King High and with a prom ruined – and then standing back while watching the world implode.

Justice happened already.

The sentences got doled out and the time was served – _seven years is a long time_ – and Ashley somehow made it to the other side of heartbreak.

And Lauren isn't just killing time.

She is funny and smart and has nice lips – the kind you'd like to spend hours kissing – and Lauren isn't asking for forever, just for right now.

And Ashley was ready for that, more than ever, she was ready to try out being 'normal' with someone.

Not to feed her ego, not to stave off loneliness, not to hurt others or herself – that's why she wants to stick around L.A. and that's why she wants to be around for when Kyla has children and that's why she buried all those feelings… _those pointless and sentimental feelings_…

But they rush up like the tide anyway and Ashley wonders just who she was kidding.

"Guess I… interrupted?"

"No. No, course not."

"Uh huh."

When they talked about the dates, Ashley always kept it minimal – not out of shyness, not truly – but because… her time with Spencer…

_That's my time with her and we are friends and I just didn't want to spend it talking about another woman. Is that wrong?_

"So, um, let's get another glass of wine."

"Ashley…"

"What?"

"I hope you aren't doing this for my sake."

"Doing what?"

"This little act, like I don't know what I just walked in on."

And when they would be talking, about anything or everything or all the stupid things… Ashley didn't want to think about another woman, not right then… she just wanted to think about Spencer…

_I wanted to show her I could be present and I am not always running away and we can do this… despite all the past… despite all these… __**feelings**__… we can be friends and nothing more… right?_

"It was nothing. Really."

"I call bullshit, but it's your life."

"…Exactly."

"C'mon then, let's have a drink. Your brother-in-law is practically passed out and I think your sister needs back up."

Lauren isn't Ashley's girlfriend.

Not really.

Open relationships sound so much like a throw-back to the seventies – disco and key parties and cocaine – but it is what Lauren does and it is all Ashley could manage, for now.

Like learning to crawl after years and years of flying, Ashley Davies is trying out new legs.

And she is bound to stumble.

_It's all I ever do around Spencer Carlin, though. I stumble and hit the ground, over and over._

Kyla begs them to get Aiden up to the bedroom and then Kyla begs Ashley to stay the night – to clear the place of guests and mentions 'watching Jaws and drinking coffee until dawn' – and Lauren kisses Ashley's cheek and whispers a good-night.

But all she can feel is the sting of Spencer's brief kiss upon her mouth.

And just like that, Ashley is hyper-aware of that deep wanting that never went away.

And the only one who can sate it is the only one who isn't around this time.

** ** **

When Spencer finally returns her calls, after three long weeks, they meet at the beach.

And Ashley wonders if Spencer feels that bittersweet ache in her gut – the faint tug of an old memory – and then this recent kiss flashes in her mind… and Ashley knows Spencer feels it all in exactly the same way as Ashley does.

She watches blue eyes shift over the rise and fall of the sea, all the waves turned golden from the dying of the sun. She watches the wisps of blonde hair flutter out and around, getting caught on eyelashes or cheekbones – and Ashley resists the impulse to push the locks back and let her hand linger there.

"I'm sorry."

"…For what?"

"Ashley, don't do this to me. You **know** what for."

"You don't have to be."

And then those eyes are on her, sharp and wounded and accusing all at once. Ashley has written a million songs about those eyes and she wonders if Spencer knows that – if that hidden tidbit slipped out upon catching one of her tunes on the radio…

"Yes I do. I **have** to. I can't just walk into your life and… and mess it up. I **won't**."

"You **aren't**, okay?"

"I… kissed you…"

Just like that, they are back in that room – music muted in the background and time standing still and… _Spencer tastes just like always and, yet, better than ever before and I wasn't looking for it… but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't longing for it… even after all this time and after all this pain…_

Spencer's voice is soft against the sand and the breeze and the cry of seagulls.

It is fine and easily breakable and Ashley wants to handle the woman with care this time – _all the time _– and she leans forward quite without meaning to… she leans toward Spencer, like a bloom to the light.

"I kissed you back."

"That means **nothing**, Ashley. We… we have a past and you have Lauren. I won't be the one to fuck all this up."

"You wouldn't, Spencer, I promise you."

Those eyes look away and Ashley almost sags to the ground, connection broken and it leaves her weak.

And they sit in silence for so long, Spencer on the distant horizon and Ashley's focus on the woman by her side.

And Ashley wonders how long she'd be willing to wait it out for Spencer – _seven years is a long time _– but that answer has always been the same.

"Lauren and I… we aren't exclusive or anything…"

Ashley watches Spencer take a deep breath and watches those long fingers grip each other.

"Does she know that?"

"Yes."

Ashley leans back and digs her hands into the wet sand beneath her, grains and grains molding to her palms. And Spencer's head tilts downward, hair now a curtain and keeping the woman hidden.

"…What does this mean? What… do you want?"

"I… I'd like to… maybe you and I could just hang out, maybe see what happens…"

"We've only just returned to being friends…"

_And isn't that how it started? Oh so long ago and in that galaxy so far away… isn't that how we came to be all twisted up in one another? Isn't that how we grew up with each other, as friends and then as lovers? Is this just you and I, a redo of all things once more…? Can it ever be a better version of what we've already done?_

_And do we dare try for better?_

"We've never been just friends, Spencer… and you know it."

Ashley closes her eyes and cannot watch anymore, the truth sliding out and bouncing around the atmosphere.

And it is the ocean and the birds and the end of the day.

When she finally opens her eyes, Spencer isn't there and Ashley doesn't feel like going home, not yet.

She lies down and tries to find stars in the increasingly black sky… tries to find the answers that Spencer just couldn't give…

"Do we dare try, Spence?" Ashley asks aloud and her own inner-voice is the only response.

_Fuck if I know._

** ** **

TBC


	3. t h r e e

It isn't as awkward as that first day, the one that found them enjoying each other and scaring each other – all at the same time.

It isn't Ashley's bedroom and talking about boys left behind.

It isn't the photograph on the night-table and Ashley's hand on her own, awakening something buried deep in Spencer's soul.

It isn't Ashley's devilish smile – the one that kills you, the one that woos you – and the distinct feeling that something wonderfully terrifying is just around the corner… it isn't like that at all.

But there are shades of it all around the two of them, walking in the park and making idle conversation, never looking too closely at each other.

They can't look away, though. They stray, but they always come back.

_Such is the story of her and me. Such is life._

Ashley did the calling. Spencer did the accepting. They don't mention Lauren.

And Spencer wants to believe that this is truly okay, whatever it is they are doing and not fully speaking about.

And, yet, Spencer cannot believe that Ashley is ever really free – the woman has always been attached to something or someone.

_If not Aiden, it was a reckless life. If not Lauren, it was some other girl. If not music, it was destruction._

But that new face, the one captured in those pictures that Spencer finally developed from the wedding… it is shining, clear and bright, and Spencer cannot deny the impact.

It hits her hard, a bullet to her chest, and it feels a lot like attraction.

It feels a lot like recognition that nothing is the same now and that Ashley Davies… _that wild child, broken and battered Ashley Davies_… is ready to settle down.

_And that scares me, it really fucking scares me… because if she is ready… then what could ever hold us back from one another?_

It is in her hesitancy to meet Ashley's gaze, out in the sunlight and with the green of trees fluttering above, though.

It is in her nervousness. It is in her reluctance to let the subject of Lauren go, at least in her own head.

It is fear, plain and simple and easy to explain.

Because Spencer has been here before, giddy and expressive and loving the sight of Ashley's smile, and it all fell to pieces the last time.

And she knows that it was so long ago – _just a memory and just a ghost…_

And she knows that they have made amends, they took a needle and some thread and they stitched up that wound – _we found a way to be in each other's lives, we found a way to forgive…_

But Spencer never forgot and the pain lingers still.

Not because she wants it to.

It just does.

_Will you let it dictate you now?_, is what her heart asks her head and Spencer can't see anything clearly now.

_Except the blue sky._

_And the sound of a child's laugh._

_The way Ashley's face is cool and calm and beautiful._

_The way… the way I can't stop myself from wanting her…_

"We don't have to figure it all out right now, Spencer."

Ashley's voice is soft and sure and Spencer doesn't try to hold back the teasing grin that springs up on her mouth.

"Get out of my head, Davies."

And now they can really look, so they do.

They grin at one another, leaving behind that shattered ice they have been skating on for the past hour.

///

"Is this a date?"

"Can be. You want it to be?"

"Maybe. I **do** like eating for free."

"Oh, I get it now…"

And they laugh, just a little, and the ice melts even more.

Spencer is still unsure of all of this, can't quite wrap her head around it and isn't sure if she should even try.

Because when she tries to understand it – to put it in its box – it just spills out into everything.

_Ashley is in everything. Always has been. Probably always will be. Dammit._

They talk more and eat sparingly and they watch people and… somewhere along the way… Spencer loses bits of her resolve and lets the façade slip down. The worry and the timidity gets drown out by that ancient pull and Spencer leans across the table, takes Ashley's hand in her own while chuckling about something irrelevant.

It is white-hot and it shocks Spencer into silence, this random touch of their skin.

And Ashley's face speaks volumes and volumes, words upon words.

_It would be amusing and interesting if it were not happening to me. The best films are made up of faces like hers, just as it is right now._

Ashley looks like every love-struck girl in the world – there is the slow descent of eyelids, almost bashful, and the parted lips just waiting… just waiting…

_Fuck, Ashley, it would be so nice to just cross this tiny sliver of space and…_

But no, not this time, not now.

Ashley's phone goes off and Spencer shifts away – blinking and grabbing her watered down soda – and Ashley is actually blushing, fumbling with her bag and the woman's voice sounds raw once she answers the call.

"Hello… oh, hey… yea, umm…"

And there is another look from another film, the one that everyone has seen up on the screen – blown up to grand proportions – it sometimes looks like guilt and… sometimes… it is just that.

Spencer knows that look. It is the one she carried in her mind after the prom.

_Ashley, etched in stone, a mass of confusion and guilt._

Of course, there were other images in Spencer's head on that night – grief and disbelief shadowed her every step back then, covered every inch of her body… like a shroud.

Black and heavy, a funeral that never seemed to end and all on Spencer's shoulders, Clay's face – frozen and dead, blood and sorrow left in his wake.

_If you only knew how much we miss you, Clay… if you only knew…_

It is the jolt of cold water that Spencer needs and she can step back, view this moment with objective eyes, and Ashley catches it because a slight frown forms on her flawless face.

And, sometimes, it isn't guilt… it is just what love looks like on a certain kind of person, what love looks like on Ashley Davies – a myriad of colors and shapes and a depth so rarely seen.

_Ashley, with her new face and grown up and ready for all the things she couldn't handle years ago… _

But Spencer isn't sure she can handle any of this.

_Not just yet. Not right now._

And Spencer knows that walking away isn't an option.

_Never has been. Never will be._

"How's Lauren?"

"Fine. How did you—"

"Lucky guess. Look, I've, uh, got to go and finish up some last minute editing."

"Oh. Okay, right…"

It's what love looks like on Ashley Davies, real and pure and honest-to-God… hand on your heart… down on your knees… and Spencer can't give in, not just yet.

_But I can't just leave it alone either._

So, she gets up and she steps close and Ashley's brown eyes tilt upward first. Then her body does the same, an offering of sorts, and Spencer meets it head-on… before taking off and regrouping, before doing a little running of her own.

A brush of lips against a cheek, warm and tender.

"Let's do this again, Ash."

And Spencer offers something of her own in that nickname, that cherished title sacrificed so long ago – _seven years is a long time_ – and it'll have to be enough.

For now.

///

TBC


	4. f o u r

"Alright, spill it."

"Spill what?"

"Ashley…"

"Aiden, **please** get your wife off my back before I decide to strangle her."

"Babe, give her a moment's peace, c'mon…"

"No. Look at her face, she looks like a thirteen-year old girl after her first 'real' date and I want to know details."

Aiden seems to tilt his head to the side, studying Ashley like a scientist might and Ashley sticks her tongue out, crosses her eyes. He grins just a bit.

"Ah, there's the Ashley I know."

"She's always around."

"Listen, if you won't help me, Aiden and if **you** won't tell me…" Kyla points at Ashley with a glint in her eye, a dangerous glint.

"…then I'll call Spencer."

Ashley crosses her arms and steps up into Kyla's personal space.

"Leave it alone. There is nothing to tell."

"Right, sure."

"We walked in the park."

"And?"

"We ate some food."

"**And**?"

"And she had to go, so we said good-bye. End of story."

"There. Mystery solved. And this gumbo is ready, too… so let's eat…" Aiden pipes up, patting his stomach and Ashley shakes her head, leaning back from Kyla's mock glare of annoyance.

"What's with this meal anyway? Why gumbo?"

"Kyla watched some special about New Orleans and insisted."

"I'm not letting this go, you know."

"Yes, Ky, I **get** it. Jesus, you are like a dog with a bone."

Ashley doesn't mind the swat at the back of her head and she doesn't mind the inquisitiveness of her sister and she grins as she sits down – tucking in to a homemade meal with her family.

'Her family'.

It sounds so nice and so Norman Rockwell and it was never how she pictured her future.

Her future used to consist of black-outs and binge drinking and possibly dying too young… just like every song her father ever sang… _just like my father in a lot of ways_…

But here she is, sitting with her sister and her best friend, eating a meal and making conversation.

_Only one thing missing, right?_

Ashley tells that part of her mind to shut the hell up, to not rush things and to not ruin things – because she saw the look in Spencer's eyes.

And it was fear, it was faltering feet and frozen movements, years still clinging to the woman's face and Ashley can't rush this.

She can't go back and fix those mistakes. She can't apologize anymore either.

Ashley can only take this one day at a time.

_And you want her to be there at the end of it all, don't you? Isn't that what it's always about? Spencer Carlin and her blue eyes and her soft skin… Spencer Carlin and her heart and her soul… that's what you always want, isn't it?_

And Ashley knows it to be true.

She just can't say all that now. Not now. Not yet.

And there is Lauren, a woman who Ashley likes and enjoys knowing and doesn't want to just use – a woman who knows what she wants and who she can get it from, a woman with a string of lovers and none of them bitter… Lauren is the interstate, from one place to another and no stops in-between, and Ashley likes to just cruise every once in a while.

Spencer is that mountain road, with great views that take your breath away, but you have to be a good driver to make it up that path and you have to know what you are doing… you have to know that those curves are as mesmerizing as they are deadly.

_You have to remember how worth it that journey is, that's Spencer Carlin… otherwise you crash and burn._

"Now, Ash, time to really talk."

"Hmm?"

"Aiden's making coffee and you've stared a hole into space, so it's time to talk."

"Can we sit out on the balcony?"

"Sure."

It is around nine o'clock and the city lies below, glittering like a diamond, and Ashley wonders how it is that L.A. can look so nice – but only when you can't see it at all.

The traffic sounds like waves and Ashley closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"She's afraid."

"Can you blame her?"

"I don't, not at all."

"Is she interested?"

"I think so."

"Well, now I know you are lying, because we both know she is."

"Kyla…"

"I'm just telling the truth, Ashley. You two have always been… you've just always **been**. It's like neither one of you can help it."

"…Is that a good thing, though?"

"What?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong… I love Spencer, I really do and it… it amazes me that just **seeing** her in front of me… I still want to fall at her feet."

"Sounds like love."

"It is. We've just got so much history and I'm not sure she can let it go."

"And you have? Completely?"

"Well, no, not completely."

"So be patient."

"Not one of my strongest qualities, Ky."

"You are not who you used to be. Stop thinking you are."

"I just… when she looks at me, sometimes, I know that is all she can see and I wonder if I've really changed at all."

"You have. Don't let this trip you up. At the end of the day, Ashley… it is Spencer Carlin and you know her better than me. Better than Aiden. Better than anyone."

"…I hope so. I really do."

Aiden brings the coffee and the three of them sit silent, staring off into the darkness. Ashley can hear the two of them exchange kisses and it makes her smile.

So many things make her smile these days and that is a switch in of itself – seeing the joy of living and feeling it, too. It is not all angst. It is not all drama. It is not all missteps and crashing down.

Life is okay.

_I am okay. I am going to be alright, no matter what Spencer does or doesn't do… I am going to be just fine._

"What about Lauren?" Kyla asks and Ashley clears her throat.

"We are still involved."

"I like her." Aiden comments.

"I do, too." Ashley replies.

"Hey, me too… but how serious are you two, Ash?"

"It isn't that serious. I mean, we are not exclusive and I know she sees other women. It's cool."

"Lucky you."

She hears the smack to Aiden's chest and the grunt of pain. It causes Ashley to laugh out loud.

"**Hey**!"

"I meant that in general, babe."

"You better, Mr. Dennison, or you can consider your hand to be your new best friend."

"God, Ky, **too** much information!" Ashley exclaims, getting up and trying to make a getaway from their little domestic dispute.

She can hear them continue to banter with each other and Ashley's phone vibrates in her pocket.

And she knew that Lauren would be calling, because they usually talk around this time – just to catch up and possibly make plans – but it isn't Lauren at all.

And Ashley would always get a nice feeling in her body when Lauren would call, the kind of sensation anyone would get when someone attractive calls them up and gives them attention – it boosts the ego and it flatters and one can get used to such moments.

_But it doesn't even compare to getting a call from Spencer Carlin._

That call can set Ashley on edge in the best possible way, anxious and flushed, stomach alive with a billion butterflies and sweaty palms.

It was that way from the get-go and she used to put it down to being young and impetuous and new to being in love.

But now she knows better.

It is just the side-effects of this woman from Ohio, a slipstream of the most potent drug and it is in your blood from your very first hit and you are addicted.

It is too good to be real.

And yet it is.

And Ashley didn't expect to hear from the woman, not this soon.

It had only been a few hours since their 'date' ended abruptly at that café, with a kiss to the cheek and a brief promise – then it was just Ashley watching Spencer walk away.

_You need to answer it before she thinks you aren't going to. _

Her arms move slowly and her fingers seem to stumble, but she finally gets it right and swallows hard.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi."

"Hello."

"Hey."

_Wow, this is weird. Like __**really**__ bad and uncomfortable. Think, brain, say more than 'hello' over and over!_

"So, are you busy Friday night?"

"Oh, umm, I am going to see a show around eight…"

"Oh. Well, I've got a showing at Eagle Rock and you are more than welcomed to come. If you want. You don't have to or anything."

"I'd like to. When does it start?"

"Seven until god-knows-when."

"Okay. I'll be there."

"You sure? You don't have to."

"I **want** to, Spencer."

"Okay."

Ashley is smiling and Kyla is walking in, quirking her eyebrow knowingly and Ashley turns away, more than content to face the wall instead of her sister at just this second.

"Bring Lauren if you want."

And just like that, Ashley loses the smile.

She isn't sure why that smile slides off so easily.

And yet… it makes more sense than almost anything in the entire universe. It's like all those butterfly wings have just slapped her face, a beautiful and painful reminder that waiting is just as hard as not having at all.

And seven years might not have been long enough to heal, to set the past truly free.

_And maybe I don't know Spencer Carlin anymore at all, dear sister. Maybe none of us do._

"…Yea. Okay. Why not?"

"Right. See you then."

"Yea, see you then."

_Fuck me sideways… _Ashley sighs as she listens to the dial-tone serenade her ear.

///

TBC


	5. f i v e

She is flush with the heat that all shows bring, the rush of a well-done performance and the deafening pulse of watching talent just light up on the stage.

And she accepts the praise, because she has earned it.

And all the people who didn't know better, who didn't think she could make it in this business… she just lets them slide on by.

Lauren lives the good life.

And she might one day share it with someone, but that day is not today.

_And it won't be with Ashley Davies._

"Eagle Rock is a great venue. She must be good."

"I'm sure she is."

"You've not seen her stuff?"

"Uh, no, no I haven't."

They met at some after-party, random and vaguely interesting – as most of those parties are – and they talked some. And they drank very little.

That's what made it even better than most hook-ups that Lauren had experienced – they were both quite sober.

Then they went out, had breakfast and the sunlight likes to make a home in Ashley's eyes… so Lauren asked her out, for a real date.

And Ashley accepted.

"You'll be getting your documentary cherry popped tonight then…"

"I've watched a documentary before, you know…"

"Just not Spencer's."

"…Right. Just not Spencer's."

Ashley has a great laugh, when she lets it out – which is rare, but worth the wait.

And she is confident in the bedroom, willing to take risks when least expected.

She can be fun and she can be serious.

She is so close to being the kind of woman one would like to promise forever to – but there are cracks in that face, tiny fractures from some other lifetime and Lauren won't be making any declarations to Ashley.

_Not today. Not ever._

"Nice turn-out."

"I need some wine. Do you see a server?"

"Looks like he is making the rounds."

"They only have one guy here? I mean, what kind of showing has just **one **server?"

"Wow, you are so nervous."

"No, I'm not. Just thirsty."

"Right…"

Tiny fractures just kept on popping up and Lauren doesn't begrudge the past that a person carries – it shapes you and it makes you who you are – but when it looks less like the thing that made you and more like what you constantly deal in… that is when Lauren ponders just how involved to get with someone.

And Ashley isn't just a product of her used-to-be, she is there still.

And that used-to-be is in Spencer Carlin.

She watches Ashley move about in a barely concealed panic, flitting around the place one second and frozen the next second.

That is, until the lights go down and Spencer steps up in front of all these people – and Ashley is riveted.

And Lauren's artistic mind creates a little play about these two silently, wondering just how far this modern-day Juliet and Juliet will go before the big finish… _death or marriage? A last kiss or an once-in-a-lifetime love?_

And Spencer Carlin is good, good enough for Eagle Rock and probably good enough for anywhere that respects a real film-maker. The documentary is moving and it is hard to watch and it makes the viewer question their pampered life and its purpose when the rest of the world is dying… It causes people to go quiet and to possibly cry.

And Lauren looks at Ashley, holding her empty glass tightly and staring at the floor.

"She's coming for you."

Ashley looks up and her eyes are cloudy with so much loss that Lauren almost reaches out to hold the woman.

But other arms should be doing that and they both know it.

_We both know it, Ashley Davies. I think we did from the very start._

Spencer smiles at them and keeps her hands behind her back. Her blonde hair is swept to one side and her clothing is informal while everyone else is dressed **too** formally – but it suits the woman and Lauren can see everything attractive about this woman, just like Ashley surely does.

"It was amazing."

"Thank you, Lauren."

"I… I wasn't expecting it to be so… grim." Ashley says softly and Spencer's eyes are allowed to fix on the true intention of her stride across the room.

"I wasn't either. Going there was a shock to the system."

"You did a wonderful job, Spence…"

"Thanks… Means a lot to me to hear it from people I know and value…"

Lauren watches them, watches the way they look and then look away… the way they lean toward each other without even knowing it… the way they fight what is so obvious and it reminds Lauren of high-school passions – heady and scary and endless…

_You two are the most unfinished story I've ever seen…_

But it is not up to Lauren to complete this tale. She is merely an observer and her part is small, not so pivotal… And she is content to be scenery to this poorly acted play, waiting for when those tiny fractures decide to suture up and for when lovers reunite.

"So, uh, I'll leave you two to enjoy your evening. I've got to mingle and drum up more cash."

"The only thing I don't like about the arts." Lauren says with a grin.

Spencer smiles self-effacingly and it is almost a convincing sight, but Lauren isn't blind and she finds it amusing that either of these women think that are clever in their mutual hiding.

_Especially when Ashley cannot tear her gaze away from Spencer's retreating back._

///

Spencer can't even fathom all the reasons why she asked Ashley to her showing tonight and why she told the woman to bring Lauren.

But her true motivation betrays her all night long – going from whoever is speaking, from whatever compliment that is tossed her way and to Ashley.

_Ashley with Lauren._

She watches the way they smile at one another and the way they talk, the way they walk close and then subtly part ways – only to come back together again.

She watches the way Ashley ducks her head whenever Lauren runs into someone the woman knows and the way Ashley uses those moments to scan the room – and Spencer averts her stare just in time to not be caught.

But she can feel those brown eyes on her, running invisible lines along her body and Spencer wants nothing more than to push Lauren away and take Ashley for her own.

It is hotly possessive and Spencer doesn't like this side to her heart, doesn't like this person lurking inside her bones – this person that would hurt another just to get what she wants.

"Is it **that** dull here or are you looking at something you can't have?"

Spencer spins around and her jaw drops down slightly.

"…Bailey?"

And Spencer recalls too much alcohol upon those Scottish shores, catches a snapshot of giggling and kissing and finding a woman willing to fly off to Spain just for the hell of it – they parted ways at Heathrow and exchanged addresses for a meet up that would probably never happen.

Because Spencer wasn't looking for a girlfriend all those days ago and neither was Bailey. They were just looking for a good time.

And for a second, too brief to garner all her attention, Spencer sees the similarities in Ashley and herself – in harsh black and white.

_We can't connect with anyone else, can we Ashley...?_

A warm embrace finds her and Spencer hugs back automatically and she can feel Ashley's piercing stare against her face.

And Spencer wonders at the meaning of timing and how they never seem to have the chance to stop riding on their constant merry-go-round with one another.

_Always for worse, never for better…_

"What are you doing here?"

"Just passin' through and wanted to look you up. Found you at a good time, eh?"

"Oh, yea, umm… were you here for the film?"

"Really good, Spencer, really good."

"Thanks. Wow… I mean, you're here. I'm surprised, you know."

"Bet so. Now that I am, care to show me a good time?"

That stare is getting more insistent and Spencer is having a hard time focusing on Bailey at all – Ashley Davies can do that to a girl, no matter how many years may pass.

She chances a look, a quick fluttering of eyelids, and Spencer sees Lauren lean in to say something in Ashley's ear.

And like a bomb going off, Spencer allows her common sense to be scattered and infinitely dangerous.

It is wrong. It is petty. And it can bring about nothing good at all.

_Always for worse, Ashley… never for better…_

Spencer's hand goes up and Ashley sees it because the woman hasn't looked away for minutes on end – so Spencer waves them over.

And Ashley appears wary as she approaches and Spencer feels something cool slither its way into her gut – and she glances at Lauren, but the woman is impassive.

And Spencer wonders what the hell she is doing – for the millionth time in the last couple of hours, Spencer won't allow realization to set in easily.

Out of fear, she chooses to fight instead of raising the white flag.

And the casualties will be high this night.

That little voice is trying hard to make her stop, to shelve the old pain and doubts… to finally take Ashley into her life again and love the woman who holds her heart so effortlessly…

But Spencer isn't listening.

///

TBC


	6. s i x

Introductions are made and stupid jokes are said and this is no battle of skeletons on some distant shore – no clash of titans, not really – it is just two involvements getting pulled into an already fucked up relationship.

And Ashley knows it, even as her body holds tight to itself – out of protection – and as she allows Spencer this moment of… _what is this? Vengeance? Anger? Inconsolable sadness?_

She takes in this woman, the eyes that dance and the smile that comes simply and she knows that this woman has seen Spencer in the early morning light – and it cuts somewhere too close to the soul, it shatters another useless illusion that Ashley held onto.

_Spencer has kissed others. Spencer has touched others. Spencer has revealed that body to others._

She snags another glass of wine and ignores Lauren's knowing looks, forgetting that Lauren is not some clueless girl from her sordid past – with nothing but glitter and greed in her bedroom eyes – Lauren knows everything and Ashley doesn't need to hear her say it to know it is true.

And this woman, Bailey, is blissfully unaware and speaking words that make no sense to Ashley at all – things that only Spencer knows and things that only Spencer can understand… and Ashley wants to leave so badly that her feet literally ache with the fleeing she is not doing.

But then, the strings pull taut and the slack is no longer given and Spencer is fixing Ashley with a daring gaze – too warm where it should be cold, too real where it should be false and suddenly Ashley is witness to every bad choice and every insurmountable fear in that blue stare.

Ashley is being challenged and being begged for and is the thing Spencer is terrified of… and the thing Spencer can't live without… and suddenly, so suddenly – yet so expected, so blatant and obvious – Ashley feels more hope than she ever believed to have a right to feel.

Because Spencer gave over skin and lips to others, but never the full breadth of her being – that belongs to Ashley and only Ashley… and as much as they run from one another, as much as they hurt and heal and do it again… as much as they sometimes don't want it be true…

_Kyla was right. We've always been. Spencer and I have always __**been**__._

"Well, this has been an excellent night, but I've really got to go."

"Oh, of course."

"Thank you, Spencer, for the invite."

"Any time, Lauren."

"Bailey, pleasure to meet you."

Ashley watches the pleasantries get exchanged, but she is really watching Spencer and that confident woman seems to fade away under Ashley's unblinking observation – retreating to the days of shyness and cheerleading and the discovery of an unending affection.

"Do you need a ride home?" Lauren asks and Ashley only smiles, a slow and soft smile… one that Spencer sees and blushes at, looks away from hurriedly, turns to Bailey to try and escape from.

"I think not."

And Lauren nudges her shoulder playfully, like a friend, and maybe that is all they were ever meant to be. Maybe it was just the take-off before the actual flight and Ashley is glad to have not wounded anyone this time around.

Just herself, a little. Just Spencer, years ago and in some other world – a world they are both trying to forget and still fix.

Ashley steps back, smiling at the two ladies before her and hands that one server her empty glass – and turns down a refill.

"Well, I'll let you two catch up. I'm going to walk around and look at some of this modern art, see if it makes as much sense as your film, Spence."

"Uh, okay… sure."

"Bailey, very nice to meet you."

"Same here."

They shake hands and then Ashley moves into Spencer's personal space, only a tiny bit… just enough to let the woman know, to finally let her know just what they are so close to starting up again… and how much Ashley wants to start it up again.

_You have no idea, Spencer… none at all… just how much I want you to be mine, for good._

_But you are about to find out._

Her lips play over Spencer's ear and Ashley doesn't want to believe it is all in her imagination that Spencer silently trembles at the coasting of air against flesh – so she believes it to be real.

After so long of doubting, of self-recrimination and punishment, of trying to play things close to the chest… Ashley wants to believe that they are all they once were, the best of who they are with one another.

And she won't let it 'trip her up' this time, won't let a sister's warning words come true.

And she won't let Spencer throw it all away either.

"When you are ready to leave for the night, I'll be here."

And those blue eyes go dark before they catch themselves and right themselves and retreat – but Ashley knows all tonight.

And she won't back down.

_Not this time. Not ever again. I did that so long ago and I lost everything. I won't do it again._

///

Spencer tries, she really does, to play her part and to play it well.

But it is hollow and she can't halt the anticipation building up in her body, up from her toes and straight to her dry mouth and using Bailey doesn't sound so great anymore.

Not that she would have slept with Bailey. Not that she would have even opened that door. But she would have pretended and that is a dark thought, a dark impulse, and Spencer thinks that those seven years just tainted her beyond belief.

_How could anyone want this broken shell of who I once was? I don't even know if I want her myself…_

Ashley isn't just 'anyone', though.

And the woman moves about the room, but never too far away.

Just like the night of Aiden and Kyla's wedding, when they chose to dance and be friends again – close but still a safe distance away, in sight and still fuzzy around the edges – hands stubbornly at ten and two.

Ashley isn't just some girl, some passing fancy, some bad memory.

She is all those things and she is everything else, too.

And Spencer knows that she is afraid – absolutely speechless with fear – when it comes to Ashley.

She wonders if she always kind of has been, one step behind and trying to catch up – chasing that elusive dream in the shape of a laughing smile and a sexy walk and a talented mess… chasing Ashley Davies down, catching her and not knowing what to do with her… claiming her and watching her walk away…

Those King High days are so haunted and every time Spencer lets them go, they just come back. It is a bad penny and a shattered mirror.

_Seven years is a long time._

But living back there is so tiring, so exhausting… when all Spencer wants is to give in and just kiss Ashley again, wants to hold the woman and re-learn all those tender places… wants to finally get their forever, that flash of something amazing that she saw when they first made love…

_Her hair about my face and hands so sure, so soft, so ready to catch me when I fall into her and her lips all over me and the terror of knowing just how much I could desire another person and how badly I wanted to imprint all of my teenage devotion upon her skin, upon her heart…_

At that café, a year ago, she wouldn't have thought it possible.

They had to end. They had to sever the bond of girlhood and notebook-love.

And a year later, at this showing and with these people and Bailey flirting outrageously with some other blonde… Spencer is no longer some lost kid in the hallways of a new school.

And Ashley isn't that starry-eyed dream in the L.A. sky.

She is a woman, flawed and gorgeous. She is everything Spencer has ever loved, the best and the worst of the entire universe.

_She's taken the first step… now it is up to you… if you want it, it is up to you…_

And Spencer, even after being so sure that a battle would be the only outcome to this life, raises the white flag.

It doesn't feel like losing, though.

It feels like coming home.

///

TBC


	7. s e v e n

"You are **so** smitten, Carlin."

"What do you mean?"

"That brunette has all of your attention, even with me here. That's saying something."

"And that 'something' is your ego is too big."

"Aw, you love it."

"I cherish it as I do all my memories of you."

"Hey, no need to spell it out so quickly… I'm not here to woo you."

"Uh huh."

"Sex is not wooing, my dear Spencer."

"Oh I know that, Bailey."

"But it seems as if I am not to get that either, not with the way that girl is the North Star for you. You hoping to have her sail you home tonight?"

Spencer inhales and feels the air push inside her lungs. And then she exhales, deep and wide as the sea, pale piece of cloth flying free in the breeze.

"Yes."

And she can hear Bailey's grin before she sees it.

"Then why the hell are you talking to me, Spencer? Get going and stop wasting time!"

And she turns her gaze to Ashley, the curve of that neck that Spencer has known as it tilts to the side and shows it smoothness to some piece of canvas filled with too much black.

_Would I have kept her at bay forever? Would I have kept her forever in the past?_

Spencer moves her left foot first, keeping her eyes trained on the tumbling down of Ashley's hair – the way every light in this place seems to hang on each strand and makes each curl glow with some kind of unearthly shine.

_Could I have denied this for much longer? Could I have really let her go?_

And Spencer is walking, measured steps on this checkered floor beneath her feet and then… Ashley is staring right at her, brown on blue, like it's always been.

///

_The conversation doesn't really matter. Spencer knows this girl must be kind of crazy and kind of bad-news… but instead of fearing it, Spencer embraces it._

_The tattoo and the attitude – Spencer likes it._

_And not in a way that shouts of envy._

_Not in a way that speaks of anything other than… other than the fact…_

_Well, I like her. She's cool and I'd like to know her better._

_I'd like to know Ashley Davies._

_And so, when the girl shouts out to Glen and takes her hand, Spencer can't help but feel a sense of wondrous trepidation – as if everything in her little Ohio world is about to change._

_Not because of L.A., though… but because of some brown-haired girl with a foul temper, who still knows how to apologize when it counts…_

_Ashley Davies… I think we could be friends, you and I…_

///

"Hey."

"Hey you."

"I was thinking that there is this diner and it stays open all night long. A bunch of boisterous Russians own it and they are like characters from a Tarantino film… but not violent, just different… and we could go there, you know, right now. If you want. They make a great botvinya."

Ashley's smile is like being awake when the sun decides to rise, spreading out lazily and illuminating the world and Spencer has every answer in the way her body responds to the vision before her – there is no letting go and there never could be… and she could have pretended until the day she died to be over Ashley Davies, but it would have been the lie of a lifetime – and it would have been the regret to drive Spencer to an early grave anyway.

"I'd love to."

///

They eat cold soup and they drink hot tea and they murmur for a while about the film, about music, about books and politics and everything other than what they want to talk about.

But Ashley's foot stretches out and presses against Spencer's leg.

So, she keeps it there and Spencer doesn't shift away.

It is just another connection in a long line of connections between them and Ashley savors it as much as all the others.

In fact, Ashley relishes it and revels in it, like being cold for so long and then you get under the waves of hot water – you are melted and brought back to life.

_You are my life. And I want you to know it, Spence… I want to say it and not hold back anymore._

Spencer dips her head down and then slides her hand against the table, the tip of each finger coming into contact first… and then it is the whole hand, the whole beautiful hand holding her own – as if it had never left.

Fingers weave and hold and merge again.

And Ashley sighs so well, so rightly… something missing finally put back in place.

And the words just fall from her lips, like they've always wanted to.

"I love you. More than anyone or anything… god, do I love you…"

///

_When I saw you walking down those stairs, with the blue dress that matched your eyes, I thought of how lovely you were… and how I could never deserve you, not really._

_Where you were light and forgiveness, I was dark and cruel._

_Every time you held out your love for another cut…I held the knife._

_And your pretty face just made me ache even more, because I felt the words well up in my throat and I knew them to be insanely true._

_Everyone could see it. Even Aiden, poor gullible Aiden… the boy I string along in order to not fall further in love with you…_

_And I wanted to be the one who always caught your eye._

_From the moment I walked along that beach and you told me your secrets, I wanted to be the one you searched for in a sea of faces._

_I wanted to be your friend. I wanted to be your world._

_But looking at you, that sweet smile and those shy eyes – even after kissing, even after nights spent grazing each other's skin – and I know that to be your world means giving in and letting go._

_I've done that for no one. Not a single soul. No, not even Aiden._

_And you are the one I could maybe… maybe break the mold for… if I can get over this overwhelming terror… if I just focus on you and the love I feel pouring out from your heart to mine… if I can just make it happen, just say the words that are so close and so real… I could have it all with you, Spencer._

_Tonight, at our prom, I think I can finally give all to you._

///

"You scare me."

"I don't mean to."

"It's not you, though, you know… it's me. It's like, sometimes, I see you and it is who you are now… and I am as drawn to you as ever. Maybe even more so. And then, sometimes, I see you and I see… I see Ashley Davies, that girl who abandoned me."

"…Sometimes I see her, too. I did for a long time after you and I… ended."

"But we've talked this out. It's done. I know it is. It is just me being—"

"Cautious."

"…Yea. Yea, I guess that."

"It's okay. I mean, I'd give anything to turn back time and not do what I did. I'd give anything to take back the hurt I caused… for the both of us."

Ashley's hand is solid and familiar, but still so new and so thrilling and Spencer can't stop herself from pulling it up to her lips and grazing the knuckles.

"Stop."

It is a whisper against the back of that hand and Ashley grips Spencer's hand tighter now.

"Stop apologizing. I know you'd change things, if you could. And the thing is… we have changed things. Did you think we could do this seven years ago? I didn't."

"I didn't either. I wanted to, but I was such a mess back then."

"I was, too… in my own way. I cultivated the talent of disappearing from my own life. I became someone I didn't know anymore and I thought that distant lands would hide me from the truth."

Ashley looks so gorgeous and open, holding firmly to Spencer's hand and ready to go there… if Spencer is ready…

And Spencer is ready. She is so ready.

"And my truth is… that all through the pain and all through the avoidance… I never, not once… stopped loving you, Ashley. I've been yours for so long, even when I couldn't see your face… I've been yours even when I hated you. I am yours right now, in this diner at whatever time it is… Ashley, I—"

But Spencer is moving, taking a short flight and hips pressing into the table's edge, lips finding a destination within Ashley's kiss – two hands still held fast between them.

It is no kiss of attack, built of anger.

It is no kiss made of weakness and of wanting to lie.

It is no kiss made of youth, hidden from mothers and stolen in bathrooms and taken on the run like criminals.

This is Ashley and Spencer, kissing in some diner at exactly one-fifty in the morning.

And Spencer knows that they will have many more hours to say all they need to say, have to say… but for now, this is more than enough.

Right now, this is everything that ever mattered at all.

///

_They are running, feet pounding into the coal-hot sand. _

_And Spencer tastes sunlight and salt on her lips._

_And Ashley can't breathe for laughing so hard, harder than she ever has._

_The water is cold and they shove each other around within it, never letting the other leave completely… always dragging them back for more of this playfulness, this something so much more than just friendship – but still something so innocent and honest._

_Ashley doesn't want it to end, not ever. And not out of a need for a lost childhood._

_Not out of a need for someone to talk to._

_She likes Spencer Carlin, likes the slant of her smile and the goofy way she can be and the softness to her voice._

_She likes Spencer Carlin as is._

_Spencer doesn't want it to end, not ever. And not out of a need for safety in this new world._

_Not out of a need to fit in somewhere, with someone._

_She likes Ashley Davies, likes the brash lift of her eyebrows and the silliness she can reveal and the joy read deep in her eyes._

_She likes Ashley Davies as is._

_So, of course, they had to ruin it._

_Because perfect things just can't last… right?_

_But after boys and some yelling… after talking under some pier… after a mostly silent ride back home…_

_They were whole again, as if just being next to one another fixed everything that just went wrong._

_They were masters at dismantling each other. _

_And they were masters at rebuilding each other._

_Even then. Even on that day where all things seemed first possible and still too raw to be trusted._

_They were Ashley and Spencer, falling in love for the first time._

///

They make vows to not rush and to not fall prey to basic whims.

They decide to date each other. Ashley calls it a 're-do' and Spencer grimaces – but laughs, too.

They talk as if they've never said a word to each other. Ever.

On the phone and face-to-face – once or twice as they fall asleep, one of them not leaving when they should and just spending the night… wrapped up in arms that feel like Christmas morning…

They've not had sex yet.

It was a mutual agreement.

And both of them attempt to break that agreement, on occasion.

Restraint is hard when you know the body well, know what places – when touched just so – will cause the best reaction.

And Spencer has gone home quite a few times extremely frustrated.

But they are not rushing things.

They promise to not become every lesbian joke out there.

They don't even speak of living together – though, secretly, they both want that and hope the other one doesn't catch the dopey grin that pops up at the mere thought if cohabitation.

Ashley imagines white-washed steps and the ocean and linen sheets barely covering up Spencer's naked body – that is her forever and her home and her piece of real-estate – but she keeps it quiet. For now.

And Kyla loves to gloat about it all, like she was somehow the mastermind for their reconciliation. And Aiden stays out of it, like the smart man he has grown into.

They all have Sunday dinner with each other and the animosity is gone so totally – like it never happened, like it never was.

But of course, it was. It did happen.

Every time Ashley looks over and sees Spencer grinning at something, she remembers how close she came to losing it all.

And every time Spencer catches Ashley's fingers stroking her arm as they sit close, she recalls how she almost threw this all away.

And still… it is all just fine.

As if just being next to each other fixes all that once went wrong.

They are Ashley and Spencer, falling in love for the first time.

Again.

///

END


End file.
